


Fighting for Approval

by Caivu



Category: Batman (Comics), Batwoman (Comic), DCU, DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Amateur boxing, Army, Blood and Violence, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Cadets, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Continuity Nods, Cousins, Face Punching, Fist Fights, Gap Filler, Gen, Historical, Inspired by Real Events, Mild Language, Military Academy, Minor Original Character(s), Some Fluff, Sports, USMA, West Point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caivu/pseuds/Caivu
Summary: At West Point, first-year cadet Bette Kane steps into the ring to follow in her cousin Kate's footsteps... and hopefully gain some more of her respect.Takes place between Detective Comics #956 and #958.





	Fighting for Approval

Bette Kane's heart hammered in her chest. The crowd assembled in Crest Hall was smaller than she'd been in front of before, and she knew for a damn certainty she was a better fighter than literally anyone else in this building. Well, except maybe for one, but that exception was not the cadet currently on her way to the ring. Bette's nervousness wasn't caused by any of the obvious factors.

But she knew the reason. Kate.

Or rather, the probable _lack_ of Kate. She hadn't responded to Bette's invite to tonight's fights, not even to say no, despite a week's notice. Kate had been a Brigade Champion in her own time as a cadet, and still fought in the occasional charity event, so one would think she would leap at the chance to see her cousin box. Especially since it was her very first time as part of the Academy's women's club.

Was Gotham just _that_ busy nowadays? She couldn't get a cover for _one_ Friday night? If that was the case, maybe Bette would give second thoughts to coming back as Flamebird.

But at the same time, she didn't know if Kate actually _was_ here, and that tension ate at her. She wanted to do well tonight (and had no doubt she would), but especially if Kate was watching. To show her that, yes, she was taking cadet life seriously.

Bette scratched her left shin with her other foot as her opponent, dressed all in black apart from her gloves, ducked through the ropes.

There was also the matter of Bette's old abdominal injury, the near-gutting she had taken several years back. That and the associated coma she had been in for a month. She knew, rationally, that athletic activity was safe for her. That, at least physically speaking, she was healed. She had gone through Beast just fine, after all.

But still horrid images slithered into her mind: herself taking a body blow and the old scar splitting like a zipper, her guts splattering onto the canvas and soaking it purple. Or getting knocked out and never waking up again.

 _That's not going to happen_ , she reassured herself. _Just breathe and stay calm—_

Ding!

 _Oh hell_ , she thought, as she stepped toward the center, gloves up. She had completely missed her opponent's introduction. It didn't matter much; Bette was familiar with her from the boxing club. Melody Casewell, a curly-haired, muscley second-year. The women's 125-pound winner in the Invitational a couple weeks back, and the defending Brigade Champ in the same class.

 _Not for much longer_ , Bette thought.

She took a jab to the nose from the taller cadet, then delivered a cross to the jaw.

As the yearling recovered, Bette stormed in close to land hooks to Casewell's ribs. She ended the assault with an uppercut, and backed off as the crowed _ooh_ ed.

 _Good, just get close_ , Bette thought.

Cross from Casewell, cross-jab from Bette.

They went most of the first minute that way, Casewell landing single, usually skimming blows for every three or four solid strikes scored by Bette.

Halfway through, Bette staggered the yearling with a three-punch combo, and Casewell took a standing eight from Coach Barone, the ref.

 _Sweet_ , Bette thought, heading to a neutral corner. Kicking ass felt good, but didn't entirely erase her nerves. She used the brief pause to scan the crowd for Kate, but it was too dark to see, and the glare of the ring lights didn't help.

 _Well, if you can't impress_ her _, impress everyone else._

Coach Barone gave the command to box, and Bette charged in again, slugging. Getting hit with the odd jab or slapping blow now and then, responding with her own punches.

_C'mon, just put her down already._

_Hey now. I don't want to_ actually _hurt her._

Pow! A huge right cross took her in the jaw, and the crowed _ooh_ ed again.

_Okay, maybe I do. Dammit! Pay attention. You're better than that._

She lashed out with a combo across the face and charged.

Left, right, uppercut, body hook, jab, cross. She was beating Casewell up against the ropes, sharp blows cutting through her defense and smashing into her face. Blood poured from the yuk's nose. The crowd roared.

Ding!

Barone stepped between them, and Bette returned to the blue corner. Casewell took another standing eight, bleeding literally and figuratively, as her time to get refreshed in her corner ticked down.

Apart from a few flecks of her opponent's blood on her golden shirt, Bette was unscathed. The firstie working her corner seemed impressed.

“Got some hands on ya, plebe,” she said, squirting water into Bette's mouth. “Just keep doin' what you're doin', and you got this.”

Bette swished and spit into a bucket, nodded.

 _Plebe_. Her mind flashed back to her early training with Kate, where she had gone by that name in the field. It was not the first time this had amused her, that she actually _was_ one now—

Ding! Round two.

_Dammit, will you focus?_

As soon as they met in the center, Casewell popped Bette in the face with a combo. Another _ooh_. Bette backed off and shook her head to clear it.

_You wanna tussle, girl? Let's tussle._

She went in hard, and the two threw leather toe-to-toe. Casewell's nose had started up again, and Bette felt a speckle of blood around her own nostrils. She broke off and circled.

Casewell stabbed in with a huge jab to the eye. Bette's head snapped back.

 _Okay, yeah, now I_ definitely _wanna hurt her._

Casewell whiffed another jab and missed again as Bette dodged her cross. Bette plugged in a few of her own jabs to the face, then went for the kill as Casewell backed away.

Cross, jab, hook, uppercut, jab, jab, more blood. Casewell with a connecting jab-hook, and then Bette with a cross, sending Casewell to a knee.

Another standing eight, more cheers. Bette retreated to a neutral corner.

Casewell stood, wiped her nose, looked ready to continue.

Bette tapped her gloves together. _Bring it._

They resumed. Big right hook to the jaw from Casewell, which Bette took without flinching. She grinned.

_Get her._

Bette snapped Casewell's head left and right with a combo, then knocked her into the ropes with an uppercut. Casewell bounced off the ropes, tried for a haymaker, but Bette plowed her own square across the jaw.

The crowd went nuts.

Casewell slumped hard to the canvas, arms dangling on the ropes, nose gushing.

Barone flagged his arms wide. KO.

_Yeah!_

Bette sprang around the ring to cheers, arms pumping. Back to her corner.

“Damn,” said the firstie, dabbing a towel to Bette's nose. “Did she piss you off in a former life or something?” Bette just chuckled.

She smoothed her hair back once her gloves and headgear were removed, and glanced at Casewell. She was only just now standing from the canvas, to applause.

_Ah, geez._

She went over and put a gentle arm around Casewell’s broad shoulders as her corner cleaned her up.

“You okay?” Bette asked.

Casewell just nodded and smiled, panting with a towel pressed over her face. More encouraging words from the cadets in the red corner, and then Bette returned to the center to wait.

Once the ringside doctor gave the all-clear, the announcement was made official. It was just for show, of course, but Bette still soaked in the applause.

Superintendent Caslen himself presented the awards: a medal on a black-and-yellow ribbon for Casewell, and a gold hoodie for Bette, printed with ARMY WEST POINT BOXING on the front, and on the back the West Point Spartan logo in the center between the phrases BRIGADE BOXING OPEN above it and 2017 CHAMPION below.

“Man,” Bette joked as she Casewell shook hands, “all I got was a hoodie, and you get a _medal?_ ”

“It's a medal for being best at getting one's ass kicked,” replied Casewell with a grin.

 _I think I like this lady_ , Bette thought.

“Besides,” Casewell added, “you'll get better than a medal at nationals. No doubt.” 

 _Oh. Right._ She had qualified for intercollegiate contests now. Regionals in March, nationals in April.

 _National Collegiate Boxing Champion Bette Kane_ , she thought. Not a bad thing to look forward to.

They left the ring after a few photos with the Supe. Casewell, already cleared by the doctor, headed straight to the locker room as Bette received her own short checkup. Clear.

As the next fight was announced, she saw Casewell chatting with someone in the exit aisle. A short, friendly few words. Casewell continued on after a moment, and Bette saw the other speaker.

It was Kate, dressed casually and leaning on a black wooden cane.

“Nice hoodie, Champ,” she said, smiling.

“Kate!” Bette's face lit up, and she almost leapt into her cousin, wrapping her in a bear hug.

 _She was here._ As good as it had felt to fight for it's own sake, the confirmation of Kate's presence made things that much better.

“Easy,” Kate laughed as she caught her and returned the hug. Bette heard her give a small hiss.

She broke off, looking concerned. “You hurt?”

Kate shrugged. “Still out 'til Tuesday. But I've had worse... and I wouldn't have missed this for anything.”

Bette swallowed a lump in her throat. “You didn't call back...”

“I know. Maybe I should've... but I wanted it to be a surprise. To help you stay focused so you'd do as good as you did.”

Bette blinked. “I did _good?_ ” It was not true doubt, but a compliment from Kate went a very long way.

Kate cocked her head. “Are you kidding? Scored a knockout and got to leave a little of your own blood in the ring? Damn _right_ you did good.”

“Even though I got hit?”

Kate sighed. “Bette, _everyone_ who boxes gets hit. Just 'cause you trained with me doesn't mean you're untouchable. You outta know _that_ pretty well.”

“I guess...” Bette said.

“But you know what _lots_ of people don't get?” Kate asked. “KOs. Not even _me_ , when I was here.”

Bette blinked again. “Whoa, really?”

“Really,” Kate said. “Then again,” she added, smirking, “Sophie was more experienced and a damn sight tougher.”

Bette rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks. Also... you fought your own _girlfriend?_ ”

“Hell _yes_. We beat each other's ass. It's on YouTube.”

“Nice, I'll have to watch it—”

Ding! The next match started, slightly startling them both.

“Well, you gotta go get changed,” Kate said, going in for another hug. “I just wanted to make sure I said hi.” She inhaled deeply. “I'm so proud of you.”

There they were, those five little words. Bette tamped down another lump and squeezed Kate a bit tighter.

“Got time for a selfie?” Bette asked as she released her, almost choking up.

“I do not,” Kate sighed, pulling her phone from a patch on her sleeve and leaning her cane against a wall.

They posed, proudly displaying Bette's trophy between them. Kate holding up a fist with her free hand, both mugging as the flash went off. Champions and crimefighters, but cousins first.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As in "Well-Matched", the event described here really happened: the 61st Annual Brigade Boxing Open at West Point, on February 24th, 2017. Coach Barone and Superintendent Caslen are real people associated with the Academy.
> 
> Bette's frequent emulation of Kate means that, just as she enrolled at the Academy, she would want to follow her as much as possible while there. Since I believe Kate would have competed in the 2010 BBO, this extends to Bette's own participation seven years later, especially since boxing became a requirement for all cadets in 2016.
> 
> Kate's injury is from her impalement in Detective Comics #953, so this story happens within the two weeks following the end of the "League of Shadows" arc.


End file.
